Towards the Dawn
by Malleus08
Summary: The road to ruin may be shorter than one thinks but the one to redemption has never seemed longer - and all he can do now is keep on walking it.
1. Chapter I

Hajun strives to make out any potential customers through the growing darkness. Around him, stretched to streets of Itano, lit by the dim glow of lanterns. Most of the vendors and buyers who had arrived for market day had retired to taverns or rented rooms for the night so the main road running through the town was deserted save for hastily erected and equally hastily deserted stalls and a few tired eyed vendors desperate to make a last sale or two before calling it a night. Hajun feels his back ache from the day's exertions. He hates to admit it, but he may be getting to be too old to haul the loaded cart over to Itano. Next year he may need to teach his son how to make the trip, how to set up the stand, and how to make the most profit off of the rice that they grew for a living...  
He is snapped from his thoughts by motion in the darkness that blankets the road ahead of him. He sees a shadowy figure that becomes better defined as it steps closer to the glow of one of the lanterns. The stranger is wrapped in a dark cloak of some kind that obscures their body and shrouds their face in shadows, though Hajun's failing eyesight can barely make out a weather beaten face with ionian features and a rough stubble on his chin suggesting that he hasn't shaved recently. Hajun can't make out any weapons through the cloak that the man wears but is gait is clearly that of a trained fighter.

"Good evening, Samurai," Hajun greets the man, bowing as far as his stand allows him to. The man tenses up slightly and Hajun is worried for a moment that he guessed the man's rank incorrectly thus insulting him but it passes quickly and the farmer settles down. The Samurai seems alright so he decides to push his luck a bit and try to sell a bit more of his rice before he returns home, "You seem to be traveling, care to buy some rice to eat on the road?" The Samurai is silent and reaches under his cloak to his waist. Hajun panics as the stranger reaches for where his sword should be but instead of a drawn blade, the Samurai takes out a small pouch from which he carefully counts a few coins and hands them to the farmer. Hajun gingerly takes the coins and hands the Samurai one of the bags of rice he prepared before leaving for the town. The Samurai places the bag in a satchel that he hides under his cloak and walks off in the direction of the nearest tavern. "Good luck on your lord's business!" Hajun calls after him. The Samurai looks at him over his shoulder and chuckles humorlessly. Hajun realizes that this is the first sound that he has heard the stranger utter.

The Samurai continues in a serious tone, "Thank you but it has been a long time since I served a master, my business here is my own."

Hajun thinks to himself, "How is he unemployed; with the threat of another Noxian invasion, any lord would count themselves blessed at the chance to add another trained Samurai to their retinue". "Bah! That is for them to worry about, I have my own worries," he reminds himself as he bends down to add the gold coins to his strongbox, feeling a dull ache from his back. Because he's bending over, he misses the dim shadow that darts along of the rooftops of the line of buildings opposite him.

The ronin opens the door to the tavern and ducks inside, letting the familiar sights and sounds wash over him. Farmers, merchants, and members of all walks of life gather here to relax after a long day and celebrate or mourn the events of the day. He makes his way through the tavern to the bartender, nimbly dodging around a stumbling drunkard, and plops a few coins down of the bar, asking for a cup of his best sake. The tavern keeper, half asleep from exhaustion and maybe a bit too much to drink is startled but takes the coins and retrieves a bottle from the shelf behind him to pour the drink. He usually prefers to spend light on provisions but he's been out in the wilderness for two weeks or so and by now a good drink and soft bed seems like paradise. As he gets up to walk to the far corner, someone bumps into him, almost making him drop the wooden mug containing his drink. He see's that it is a young man with his hair coiled into a warrior's braid and a sheathed sword resting openly at his hip. His unfocused eyes and unsteady gaze suggests a few too many drinks as he look at the wanderer waiting for his reaction.

Without thinking, his mind calculates the right motion to draw his sword and cut down the drunken swordsman without spilling his sake but he casts the thought aside. A few years ago, he might have cut the man down without hesitation for the offense but now he can see how this drunken, cocksure, swordsman is who he used to be. A sword school might teach one how to wield a sword, history, court protocol, or anything else one might need to become a Samurai but some lessons can only be learned with age. Age and far too much blood, he thinks regretfully. He ignores the unspoken challenge and takes a seat in the far corner.. He takes a sip from his drink, taking a moment to savor the taste before letting it burn down his throat. Despite his request to the tavern keeper, he doubts that this is his best sake, maybe third best, but after two weeks on and off the road, with only boiled water to drink, it tasted like the finest concoction from the Placidarium. He continues nursing the cup while carefully observing his surroundings from his corner. After things have stayed calm for a few minutes, the ronin decides that he can risk spending the night in civilization.

He is about to stand and walk over to the owner to see if any rooms are available for rent when the door is slammed open and an intimidating figure stalks in, wearing a dark cloak with red and black armor visible underneath. He carries no visible weapons and isn't especially large, even with the armor adding to his stature, but his sheer presence makes the crowded bar wordlessly clear a path for him. He silently paces to the center of the room before casting off his cloak to reveal fine ionian features twisted in determination and anger and marred only by a set of jagged scars running along one cheek left by some sort of huge animal. He wears black and crimson armor of an unknown make and as the bar watches in stunned silence, he draws a cruel looking sickle from his belt with a chain dangling from the bottom to his belt. He glances around the room, his gaze seeming to pierce into the Swordsman's soul. The armored warriors stabs the blade of his sickle into the floor and it is wreathed in shadowy flames that writhe over the surface of the weapon and sizzle against the floor. "I am Vaul of the order of shadows," he announces to the room with calm menace, "and I have come for your head, Yasuo.

The ronin curses to himself at the unexpected turn of events before drawing a nodachi from under his cloak and tipping back his hood to reveal rugged features hardened by the road and eyes that seem far older than the rest of him. "If you've come to kill me," Yasuo begins, taking a last swig from his drink before pouring the rest over his blade, "I hope you brought friends."

-Five Minutes Earlier-

Vaul leaps from one rooftop to the roof of the tavern, his specially designed boots muffling the noise of his landing and finding a grip on the loose shingles. He's tracked his target ot the room below him and now vengeance is finally within his grasp. He crouches down on the perch, the shadows merging with his cloak, and reflects on what brought him here as he checks his weapons one last had been lying in wait for an hour when the family returned to the house. Normally, they would have been there when he arrived but they must have needed to go somewhere, maybe to meet their daughter who would have her leave from the Ionian Royal Guard start today. When he saw the elderly couple round the bend, he longed to run out and embrace his parents but his sense of duty help him back. As part of the Kinkou, he hadn't been allowed to see his family in order to remind him that he wasn't purely part of the human world anymore. The Order of Shadows encouraged such visits, "to remember what we fight for," but Zed had still made the decision that member would still have to avoid contact with anyone who would recognize them. "We are shadows, we can watch, we can bee seen, but we cannot be touched. Some do not agree with out methods and so we must remain anonymous," he remembers Zed saying to the fledgling order right after the schism. Because of this, he restrained the urge to reveal himself as alive and remained hidden in the bush near the path he had camouflaged himself in, waiting for his sister to step into view.

He was two years younger than her but they had learned to fight together and played and sparred in the forest outside of town. When she came of age, she had left for a sword school and they had promised to meet again once they had both become Samurai before joining the guard to earn honor like the warriors of legend they had grown up hearing of. Then a few years later, he made the mistake of helping the wrong stranger and was given the choice of joining the Kinkou or death. It had nearly killed him to fake his own death and break his promise, just as it had hurt her to learn of his apparent death. After the schism, he had found opportunities to watch as she joined the guard and slowly climbed the ranks, silently supporting her but unable to contact her, even just to let her know he was alive. She took her leave from the guard at this time each year so he made sure to be there to silently welcome her home.

This thought had been in his mind when his parents were followed around the bend by a squad of guards in dress uniforms, carrying a plain but elegant coffin between them. Any doubt towards the identity of the occupant of the coffin that his mind tried to form was dispelled by the sergeant giving a short and obviously well practiced speech and the coffin being opened to reveal her body, garbed in the simple tunic she wore under her guard armor and with a dressed but obviously deep slash across her chest. It had taken some work, but he managed to find out what had happened. Her company had cornered a traitor from the Noxian invasion and tried to arrest him. It didn't end well.

Zed had taken some convincing but he knew Vaul's past and given how many Ionians Yasuo had killed over the last two years, he was a threat that needed to be dealt with. A month of gathering information, tracking down reports, and traveling later and he had found the killer. He carefully replaces the last shuriken at his belt and jumps down to the street below. He takes a deep breath and satisfied with his readiness, kicks the door wide open and strides in as silent as a shadow.

-The Present-

The crowd, already terrified by Vaul's presence, begins to scatter at the sight of the face that has covered wanted posters all over Ionia for years, leaving the tavern through the door or windows, whichever is closer. The young samurai who had tried to provoke the cloaked ronin earlier, stares over his shoulder at him, realizing he had tried to pick a fight with one of the most infamous warriors in all of Ionia.

Yasuo swiftly undoes the pin of his cloak, allowing it to slide to the floor, and bows to Vaul. His foe seems caught off guard by the gesture but returns it a heartbeat later. Vaul straightens up and makes an exaggerated gesture of blowing, similar to blowing out a candle, before all the torches go out, plunging the tavern into shadows cast by the fireplace whose light dims but isn't completely extinguished. Yasuo assumes a combat stance, with his sword in front of him, ready to parry. As he stands still, he begins to gather the wind around him while waiting for Vaul to make a move, not wanting to commit to an attack until he can determine the ninja's fighting style. Vaul does not disappoint, charging at Yasuo to slash him with his sickle. The ronin's superior reach allows him to knock the sickle to the side easily but then he needs to leap backwards to avoid a swing at his torso of the other end of the chain, weighted with a metal ball. Vaul doesn't let up with his assault, throwing a fan of shuriken at Yasuo.

The Unforgiven swings his blade like a conductor's baton, sending forth a strong gust of wind that knocks the flying blades aside. His attention is then drawn by a hissing sound from the floor. He glances down to see another shuriken stuck into the ground in front of him with a small parcel attached with a burning fuse. He is forced to dodge backwards again as the shuriken explodes into a blast of smoke and fire, the wave of force buffeting even from a distance. He steadies himself and searches the room for Vaul who has vanished. "Ninjas, I hat those guys," the swordsman mutter to himself. He catches the shadow of a table that seems slightly off to him out of the corner of his eye and begins to pace in it's general direction, trying to make it seem that hasn't noticed it. When he gets within ten feet of the shadow, he suddenly pivots to face it and stabs toward it, the stab being extended by a scything blast of wind. The table's shadow distorts as Vaul springs away from it, only being grazed by the blast of wind. A small trickle of blood runs from his shoulder but the shadowy warrior ignores it, focused solely on his foe. Yasuo immediately follows up the stab by rushing at Vaul, propelled by the wind, preparing a slash with his nodachi.

Vaul jumps to the side and lands with his feet on the wall, anchored in place by shadowy energy surrounding his feet and somehow seeming perfectly balanced. Without missing a beat, Vaul continues running along the wall before flipping onto the ceiling and swinging the weighted chain downwards towards Yasuo. Fighting an enemy who is walking on the ceiling catches the ronin off guard but his years of wandering and fighting all sorts of bounty hunters allow him to catch the weight on the flat of his sword and knock it aside. He realizes his mistake when his attacker vanishes into shadows and he detects a disturbance in the air flow behind him; he dives forwards but not fast enough to avoid a cut to his upper back. It would have been worse but the shell of wind he had gathered around himself absorbed the worst of the blow before dissipating. He spins around to face Vaul and whips his sword towards him from the side. Vaul dodges easily by jumping backwards, onto the ceiling but he can't avoid the whirling tornado that rips up the floor as it rushes towards him. Right before it sucks him in, he hears Yasuo call out, "Aseryo!"

He is battered by the wind and debris before being spat out later along its path into one of the still intact tables. The tornado continues going and punches a hole through the back wall of the tavern as he rises, dazed, from the wreckage of the table. Yasuo immediately dashes over the fragments of wood covering the tavern floor to unleash an overhead slash while shouting, "Ton!" The ninja barely holds the sword in check with the blade of his sickle as he addresses The Unforgiven through gritted teeth, "I will not... lose... so easily!" With the last words, he throws down a smoke bomb with his free hand and leaps clear, allowing the explosive shuriken he had planted before the clash of blades to detonate, enveloping Yasuo once more in smoke and flame. As the disgraced samurai stumbles out of the smoke, coughing, the ninja sweeps his chain in a wide arc around himself and slams the weighted end into Yasuo's midsection. The samurai barely catches the incoming attack through the smoke and can only roll with the impact to minimize the damage.

Yasuo's ribs scream from the force of the blow and he winces as he lands but he still stands back up, ready for more. The fighting stops for a moment as the two fighters circle each other, waiting for an opening. Yasuo breaks the silence by addressing Vaul, "So, why are you after me? Money? Honor? Some sense of justice?"

Vaul glares back at him with cold hatred, "My sister was in the guard, she devoted her life to defending Ionia and you killed her, traitor." Yasuo flinches at the last word and Vaul continues," Do you even remember her face as you killed her? Do you remember any of the Ionians you've murdered?"

The ninja's words cut through Yasuo like knives as he searches his memories for a similar face only to find that they all blur together, until he can only see Yone's bloody face, staring back at him in disappointment. He is flooded with shame at this but at the same time rage at Vaul for presuming to judge him without having gone through what he has. With an inarticulate shout, he charges forward with his Nodachi held high for a death blow.

Vaul manages to catch the overhead swing on his chain by holding both ends of it but is forced backwards by the flurry of attacks that follows it. He leaps over a table to get some space and then flips upward onto the ceiling, his key instinctively anchoring his feet. Using one of the order's techniques, he slips into the shadow of a rafter and feels the now familiar chill as he emerges behind the bar, narrowly dodging a thrust of wind. With the temporary element of surprise, the ninja prepares to strike with the sickle portion of his kusarigama while shadows begin to gather around the blade, forming a scythe like structure.

"Scurry back to your shadows, ninja," Yasuo taunts towards the shadows that fill the room, trying to draw out his opponent now that he's partially calmed down. He glances around the room, trying to catch a glimpse of Vaul, with his sword held at the ready. Silence briefly fills the room and then the ronin snaps around, detecting a disturbance in the air flow behind him.

"Fall traitor!" Vaul shouts as he swings his sickle downwards, mirrored by a wave of shadowy energy that crashes down upon the swordsman. Yasuo attempts to block but the shadows simply flow around the keen blade. At the last second, Yasuo forces the air flowing through the room into a fast moving barrier of wind that blasts forwards, the shadows dispersing around it. "Face the wind!" the Unforgiven shouts, as the residue energy blasts the surrounding area to dust and flying splinters but leaves him unharmed. Without wasting a second, he sheathes his sword and starts channeling the wind from the wall and explosion into his blade with one hand on the hilt and the other on the sheath, preparing to draw. Both warriors are momentarily unable to see the other but a disruption in the air flow allows Yasuo to detect Vaul circling around for a killing blow on an enemy he expects to be disabled.

"Hasagi!" the ronin shouts in ancient Ionian, as he flicks his blade forward from its sheath releasing a far larger whirlwind than the first one that blasts forth from the cloud of dust, swallowing up Vaul and launching him through the wall of the tavern and skyward. Before the stunned eyes of the crowd that had gathered outside the Tavern, Yasuo leaps out of the hole in the tavern wall to intercept Vaul in mid air. A blast of wind suspends them both while forcing the nearest onlookers to the ground as Yasuo raises his nodachi. Vaul manages to catch the first strike on his weapon but he is too off balance to completely avoid the second which traces along his face, cutting a thin line across it that bleeds profusely. Yasuo aims the third slash to cut open his torso but suddenly he sees Yone's dead stare looking back at him. He deflects the blow to the side at the last second slicing Vaul's hip but not killing him before they both fall to the ground; Yasuo landing smoothly with his sword sheathed and Vaul landing with a thud, bleeding badly with a nasty looking cut to the upper leg which also appears broken from the fall. He tries to stand but can't, only able to glare at Yasuo from the ground. "Sorye ge ton!" Yasuo shouts as he lands. Vaul's face is a mess, with blood dripping from the cut but he still manages to glare back at Yasuo.

"Finish this," he hisses at Yasuo through gritted teeth.

"I have too much blood on my sword already," Yasuo murmurs to him,"I don't need to add another face to the list."

Vaul keeps glaring but Yasuo turns around and walks away. Yasuo walks down the deserted street after leaving a pile of coins on the counter of the bar. It wouldn't be nearly enough for repairs but it was all he could afford to give. He would have liked to stay the night but that wasn't really an option as he had just blown his cover in a rather magnificent fashion. In a well practiced routine, he sets up camp a bit off the road and sits down to think. "Sorye ge Ton - ancient Ionian for to raise towards the dawn. Raising his sword towards the light as if to say, I won't just give up, I'll keep going until I reach my redemption. That or death, whichever he reaches first. "I will follow this path until the end, brother," Yasuo whispers, "so this isn't all a waste.

 **Author's Note:**

 **Alright, I finally stopped procrastinating and published this! This is my first time writing a story that's not for school so feedback would be appreciated. The cover art is by the talented OrekiGenya and used with her permission, if you want to see more then check her out on deviantart.**

 **Also, some fun facts about this:**

 **This started out as a one shot that I just wrote to try writing a fight scene and I just enjoyed it so much that I decided to make a whole story about it.**

 **The initial fight scene was written in December 2016 and I've just been working on the story on and off since then.**

 **Vaul, the second in command to Zed in the order of shadows, used to be called Kane but then riot releases Kayn, the likely successor/second in command to Zed in the order of shadows so I figured I just might have to change his name.**

 **Best of luck to anyone who bothered to read this and see you in the next chapter hopefully!**


	2. Chapter II

Towards the Dawn: Chapter Two

After another day's travels, Yasuo goes through the practiced motions of setting up camp before laying down to rest on the ground with a small fire burning nearby. It's almost like before he joined the sword school, when Yone and him had wandered, looking for work.

Yone...

He thought he had known the price when he cut down the guards and escaped into the wilderness. He had told himself with every Ionian he had been forced to cut down that this was worth finding the true killer. He hadn't known the price back then. He hadn't known they would send his brother after him. Hadn't known they would send Yone to his death.

With Yone's last words on his mind, Yasuo falls into an uneasy sleep.

"Who else knows the wind technique, brother?"

And then death had embraced him, let in through the cuts left by Yasuo's blade.

When he wakes up the next morning, he still felt sore but the cuts and bruises from his fight with Vaul seemed to be healing well. He decides to keep moving, he can't afford to stay in the area in case any other hunters come. He had received word in a previous town that a group of bandits had been killed by someone using a wind technique; or in their words, by Yasuo. He decided to check it out but had expected it to be a bust. When he found the bodies though, he knew it was true. A normal sword doesn't cut through a man like that; or through the tree behind him; or into the tree behind that one.

He takes a sip from his flask and starts walking. After a few day's travel, he reaches a sign of civilization. The town is larger than the last one but still considerably smaller than something like the Placidium. He glances at the sign to confirm he is headed in the right direction and immediately freezes as if he has seen a ghost. Yagawa, his birthplace, now so lost to him that he didn't even recognize the name on his map. Maybe here he can finally earn his redemption. He flips the hood of his cloak up to obscure his face and distinctive hairstyle before adjusting his cloak to hide his sword for the most part. Anonymous enough to not be recognized and dangerous enough to not be challenged. Perfect for his purposes.

He walks through the gates after greeting a bored looking guard, one of far too few, as the guard complains to Yasuo. It's around midday and the summer sun glares down from overhead. The streets aren't particularly crowded. If a warrior were to be passing through here then they should be at the inn. He makes his way to the inn, a location he is intimately familiar with from the past which doesn't appear to have changed at all. John is still at the bar, though looking a bit older than Yasuo remembered. The blue flame islander stands out among the mostly Ionian crowd with his dark skin, greying hair, and bulky frame. A golden medallion that looks like some sort of octopus hangs from his neck which he tends to finger absentmindedly. When asked why he had traveled all the way across the world to Ionia, he would answer, "Nagakaborous commands that we follow our dreams and stay in motion. I wanted to settle down and run a tavern so I moved," before chuckling heartily and letting the matter drop.

Luckily, he was in town today rather than traveling as he occasionally did to restock on supplies or search for new recipes.

The experienced bartender picks Yasuo out as he enters and asks him what he wants to drink. Yasuo casually lets his hood slip back a bit to show John a glimpse of his face. The bartender appears shocked but he recovers quickly and starts to pour a glass of sake. "I need to talk with you in private," Yasuo whispers to him.

"Yes, my boy," John replies, "you very much do."

Yasuo sits down at a table in the corner of the room closest to the bar and waits. He look around, seeing regulars from when he lived here as well as newcomers. He analyzes the faces he doesn't recognize carefully, any one of them might be his quarry.

The door opens quietly, revealing three guards standing in the entry. Yasuo figures they are on leave before noticing the armor of royal guards beneath their cloaks. Yasuo tenses up as he sees that one of them is holding a wanted poster with his picture on it. Before the guards can do anything though, Yasuo sees John catch a regular's eye before making a subtle motion with his arm. The man casually places some change on the bar and grabs a bottle before smashing it over the head of the person next to him, a young looking samurai. The samurai's face slams into the bar and he replies by slamming his fist into his attacker's gut. Immediately, the bar erupts into a full on brawl with people retaliating or just joining in for fun. Out of the corner of his eye, Yasuo see's an overweight merchant run out of the room knocking aside the guards in his haste to escape. During the chaos, John grabs Yasuo and pulls him behind the bar before opening a well hidden trapdoor that leads to a set of stairs. He follows Yasuo through before closing the door over their heads. "Can I assume you didn't kill the elder?" John asks him.

"Correct, thanks for trusting me."

"Yas, you two were practically my own children. If I can't trust you then who can I trust?" John says with a faint smile. When Yasuo and Yone had been orphans, John had caught them stealing food from his tavern and instead of turning them over to the guard, he had decided to take them in and eventually he had trained them to fight before paying their tuition for the sword school. From him, Yasuo had learned literacy, fighting, and possibly a bit too much about alcohol, he thinks with a grin. John lights a lantern and hefts it in front of them while they walk through the small dirt tunnel. His broad shoulders barely fit but Yasuo can tell that he uses the passage a lot. After a short time they reach the end of the tunnel where an iron ladder is affixed to the wall. "The passage leads to my brewery. You should be able to get away through here," John says gruffly before assuming a more tender tone, " can you tell me what happened?"

The ronin grimaces as he thinks back to the events of that day but replies, "I had left the Kuraha Sword School a year ago to join the army but we were slowly driven back out of the southern provinces. I had fought in a few small skirmishes but I hadn't fought in any major battles yet. Then the Noxian army ran into the Cruor Mountains and in order to bring their troops and machines through they needed to secure one of the two passes. They decided to commit to an attack on the school which overlooked one of the passes and the Guard replied in kind. The Ionian Guard along with the forces of individual lords and schools massed at the school in the days before the battle, myself among them. It was good to reunite with Yone and the other students as we boasted of our prowess and how many we would kill tomorrow. We were fools. On the eve of the battle, Elder Kuraha called me to the inner sanctum to speak with them…

The double doors slam shut behind Yasuo as he enters the chamber to face Kuraha. It has been a year since he left the school to fight in the war but Kuraha is still the same as he remembers, the elder seems shriveled and barely comes up to Yasuo's neck while his hair is gray and sparse but his eyes still hold the wisdom of many lifetimes. No one knows how old he is, Yasuo hasn't met a single person who remembers Kuraha looking any different. He bows deeply and then straightens up to await his old master's words. After a moment, Kuraha addresses him sternly, "Yasuo," he begins, "you have come far in your training here, few of the teachers even are your equal in swordsmanship and that was before you joined the army." Yasuo feels himself swell with pride at the complement, praises from Kuraha were always few and far between. "You do not lack for skill but what you lack is discipline, humility, and moreso, you lack wisdom."

"With all respect, Master, I'm not a samurai for my wisdom but for my skill at arms," Yasuo replies slightly annoyed.

"Give any man a sword and he will cut, give a samurai a sword and he will know when not to cut; it seems that is a lesson I did not teach you well enough" Kuraha replies with frustrating vagueness.

"How does that matter now? Noxus is at our doorstep, we need swords right now, not riddles!" Yasuo struggles to stay calm.

"Your commanders and I have made a decision, for this battle you are to remain here and act as my bodyguard."

"What!" Yasuo shouts in shock.

"Consider this another lesson," the elder replies before turning to walk away, leaving Yasuo standing there.

For what feels like the hundredth time since the battle outside had started, Yasuo paces about the chamber restlessly. Elder Kuraha sits at the center of the room meditating as he has been since Yasuo arrived. Outside, Yasuo can hear the clashing of blades and the screams of the dying. With each scream he can't help but imagine it as Yone's or any of his other friend's. "I should be out there fighting, if I weren't stuck here I could turn this battle around," he thinks to himself angrily. He could probably sneak out without Kuraha noticing, surely Ionia winning was more important than some commander currying favor with the elders…

"I know what you're thinking," Kuraha interrupts his thoughts, still sitting cross-legged in the center of the room. Yasuo stiffens in shock. "You think your sword alone would decide the fate of this battle," Kuraha continues.

Yasuo sighs, "Alright, you got me there, Master. I will remain here as ordered," he answers dejectedly.

"Tell me Yasuo, frankly, do you believe this is the right thing to do?" Kuraha questions him.

"You know my answer to that, I could make a difference out there, I could save Ionian lives, and instead you're using this to prove a point."

"Correct answer, I don't train you boys to be marionettes with swords, dancing to the will of their commander; I train you to follow your own sense of justice and do the right thing," Kuraha tells him sagely, "If you think it's what you should do then go out there, make your own mistakes and learn from them instead of hoping that your commander has done the same." With that, Kuraha's eyes close again and he returns to his meditation.

Yasuo briefly stares at him in shock before sprinting out the door with the wind at his back.

"When I got back the school was a mess, the door had been knocked off it's hinges, the floor covered with blood and bodies, and the sparse but carefully arranged furniture destroyed in places like someone had gone through the halls with some sort of piltovian construction vehicle. I rushed to the center of the shrine only to find Kuraha dead, decapitated with a gentle smile somehow still affixed to his lips. I stayed there, overwhelmed with guilt, waiting for the guard to find the scene and charge me with dereliction of duty. They took my statement , arrested me and then had me escorted to the nearest base while they examined the scene further. I was resigned towards my likely dishonorable discharge from the army until a messenger reached us on horseback, saying that I was to be put to death for the murder of the elder. I should have let them do it but then Master Kuraha and the other students and servants that had died at the school wouldn't have justice. The killer would get away free and since a suspect had been found and killed they wouldn't give any further thought to the matter. I cut down the guards closest to me and blew the others away with the wind before running off to collect my thoughts and start my search for the killer. I've been on the run since trying to find the killer" Yasuo pauses to catch him breath.

"And Yone? They said you killed him." John asks sadly, anticipating the answer. Yasuo face falls in regret and he remains silent.

John places a thick arm around Yasuo's shoulder in a comforting gesture. "Sorry I asked, now what's brings you back to this town?"

"I've been following reports of someone who used a wind technique to kill some bandits, he should either be in this town of have left it recently. Do you have any people staying at the inn who might fit that?"

"I'll tell you what, stay with Hanim for the night, I'll give him a heads up about that, as for the person you're chasing, I'd imagine that if they're still here they won't want to stick around with the guards showing up," the grizzled barkeeper pulls out a key from one of his pockets and unlocks the trapdoor with a grin, "help yourself to some of the sake in there. It's good to see you again, boy." Yasuo grins back remembering the times before Yone and him had left for the sword school before climbing through the trapdoor and into John's brewery. Behind him he hears John, "Don't let this quest of yours consume you, son, sometimes the greatest revenge is to live well."

Yasuo climbs up the ladder and closes the trapdoor behind him after one last glance at John's departing back. He looks around finding himself in a small shed tightly packed with brewing equipment and already filled barrels. He fills his hip flask from one of the barrels and takes a sip, pausing to savor the familiar taste, before walking out into the light. In an effort to blend in, he walks to Hanim's house at a leisurely pace. As Hanim should still be at the inn, he climbs through an open window and pours two small cups of sake for when Hanim returns. The house is well kept with the exception of one of the two chairs at the small table which is covered with dust as if it hasn't been touched for years. Not a good sign. Hanim used to live here with his family but during the war his two sons had joined the guard and his wife had died fighting. Since she died, Hanim had never been the same but even if his old happy and boisterous demeanor was gone, Yasuo still trusted him as he would any close friend of John's. A few minutes later, Hanim walks through the door before greetings Yasuo almost offhandedly. John may not have changed much with the years but Hanim was a different story, his dark hair had gone almost completely grey and he seemed to have lost weight. The biggest change though was his eyes, once they were full of warmth and seemed to shine but now they had lost that glimmer and there were dark bags under them. Yasuo hadn't expected him to take the news well but he hadn't been able to return to Yagawa because of the war and then his fugitive status. Apparently things had been even worse than he feared. It hurt to see someone who used to be so cheerful cold and broken.

He remembers how Yone and him and met Hanim, they had ran away from the orphange recently and had arrived in town to try to find some sort of employment but they had been unsuccessful. A meal had been cooling unattended on the stove and they hadn't had anything to eat all day so they had snuck in through the window and stolen some. The next day, when they passed by the same house, there was another meal wrapped up on the window sill with a note saying, "If you're willing to go to the extend of stealing this then you need it more than I do. -Hanim." After John has essentially adopted them they had been introduced formally to him and his family but that note had served as enough to earn Yasuo's respect and trust.

He briefly explains the story to Hanim who replies simply with, "If John says you're innocent, then I trust him. If you need a place to stay for the night then use the bedroom up the stairs and to the left, it's empty." His composure seems to waver at the last part, "John says he'll inform you on the situation when he can."

"A drink?" Yasuo offers, eager to change the subject.

"Thanks," Hanim replies, taking it. They reach out and their glasses clink together before they drink. "To the past, before all this fell to pieces."

The two drain their glasses in silence before Yasuo speaks up, "You need to move on from this, Hanim."

"You think I can just go along like nothing happened, Yasuo? They were everything to me, you know that, and now they're all gone." Hanim responds with a harsh edge to his voice.

"She wouldn't want you to stay like this just because she died," Yasuo tells him. Knowing her, she probably would have beaten him up for being depressed, she had been a skilled samurai, harsh but caring, who at John's behest had hammered the basics of swordsmanship into the two orphan's heads, sometimes in a more literal sense.

"Not all wounds heal, Yasuo," Hanim says gravely, "you waste your words."

"If you believe that then you need them far more than I do," Yasuo says as he walks away to his appointed room. Hanim doesn't seem to react but Yasuo could have sworn that he saw a ghost of a smile grace his face.

Yasuo makes his way upstairs to rest until John arrives. There is a lone hallway on the second floor, the door at the end leading to where Hanim sleeps, the one of the right to his workroom, where he shapes clay before heating it in a kiln outside, and the one on the left to the bedroom that used to belong to his sons. Yasuo opens the door to the left and walks inside. The room has two beds and little other furniture and is filled with the musty smell of what must be years worth of dust. Yasuo opens the window in the corner to let fresh air into the room before covering his face and sending a gust of wind through the room to blow away the worst of the dust. With the problem of the dust gotten rid of, he places his pack on the floor, not wanting to risk the structural integrity of the beds, and extracts a well worn whetstone. He sharpens his sword, half for practical reasons and half as a habit he has built up over the years. When he is finished, he pulls a leaf of parchment from his pack along with a brush and pot of ink. He had once served as a bodyguard for a wandering artist and Yasuo had picked the skill up from him.

Yone would probably have been amused, since Yasuo had never been one for the "fine arts" in the past, but anything to relax and pass the time was useful on the road and having the supplies and some of his pictures in a pack made for a good cover story when needed.

An hour or so later, John enters to see Yasuo meditating. He walks up to Yasuo and taps him on the shoulder. Yasuo's hand snaps towards the hilt of his sword before seeing who it is.

"The guard left, they had heard you were heading this way but they figured you had already passed through the town," John informs him, "you know anything about what the killer would look like?"

Yasuo thinks for a second before answering, "he's most likely some sort of Noxian swordsman, you seen anyone like that?"

"Not as specific as I would have liked but I've seen at least one foreign swordsman pass through recently, if I'm right then they should be leaving the town soon so you can catch them," he pauses, "please make sure you actually have the right person before you attack them, I know you aren't the most subtle person out there but attacking random travelers because they look like Noxians wouldn't be a good idea."

"Understood," Yasuo answers sheepishly as he realizes just how vague of an idea he has of the assassin's appearance before continuing with an edge to his voice, "I'll make sure first but if he's the murderer then one of us will not leave alive."

"And then what will you do, Yasuo? I doubt the elders will forgive you easily." John asks him.

"I don't know," Yasuo admits.

John hands him an envelope, "I have a friend in Piltover who might be able to help, when you're done, deliver this letter to Dr. Corin Reveck, he can help you start a new life there."

Yasuo takes it, "thank you, that means a lot."

John turns to leave before glancing back over his shoulder, "one last thing, son."

"Yes?"

"Don't let this goal consume you, Yasuo; as we say back on the islands, stay in motion."

 **Author's Note:**

 **Sorry, I haven't had that much time to update because of school along with just getting distracted with gaming. Next chapter shouldn't take this long, chapter after that probably will. So, hopefully see you all in the next chapter!**


	3. Chapter III

Breath in, breath out, in, out; Yasuo relaxes on the edge of a mountain. It's a rare moment of tranquility for him; no guards to evade, no bounty hunters to kill, no road that he needs to travel, just him and the wind. His sword is sheathed and lies by his side while he sits cross legged. He has a small shelter built further down the mountain where he can take time to recover if he's too badly injured to continue his mission.

Sometimes he wishes he could spend more time here but he knows he can't. He tells himself it's because he doesn't want to risk a bounty hunter stumbling across the shelter but deep down he knows that the reason why he can't is because if he settles down, then he risks forgetting why he has to do this when it would be far easier to just go to ground and give up the life of a warrior or leave the country all together. It would be easier, yes, but if he did that then Kuraha would never have justice and all the warriors who had died trying to kill him would have died for nothing. He is startled from his thoughts by the sound of footsteps behind him. He turns around, expecting to see a shepherd or farmer given the remoteness of his location but ready to draw his sword in case of the worst. He almost jumps in shock when he sees a familiar face approaching him. "Yone!" the Wanderer shouts, startled, "but you're dead."

"Who says I'm dead, Brother," Yone replies, his voice cold and mocking in a sharp contrast to the voice Yasuo remembers.

Yasuo recovers from his shock and his voice hardens, "Yone is dead, I killed him, you only do disservice to his memory. Begone yurei."

"You think you can banish the darkness within you, Yasuo?" Yone's form starts to break up into black mist, "every time you close your eyes it will be there; every time you close your eyes I will be there," the voice hisses. By now Yone's body is gone and the mst has started to form two shadowy arms tipped with long jagged claws along with indistinct red eyes. Yasuo tries to reach for his sword but can't seem to move. The Yurei rushes at him and everything goes black.

The darkness fades into a dim view of the ceiling and Yasuo looks around to find himself in Hanim's house, covered in cold sweat. He leaves a note on the bed, "I'm back on the trail, try to think about what she would want from you, Hanim." He shivers as he remembers his nightmare before continuing, "you need to face down the darkness instead of letting it control you. Stay in motion." He may not be a follower of nagakaborous but after thinking of John's words, maybe they have a point.

He buckles his sheathed nodachi to his belt and puts on his cloak. He starts walking to the gate that his target should be using the leave Yagawa. The sun has not yet risen and the streets are empty. He exits the town after passing a few half asleep guards waiting to be relieved by the next shift and continues a few hundred meters past the treeline of the forest that surrounds the town. One more fight and this will all be over, one way or another. He'll wait for a foreign swordsman to pass by and then he can walk onto the road behind them, try to figure out if they are the killer and then challenge them to a duel if they are. With the essentials of a plan in mind, he walks off the road and hides in the bushes along the side of the road.

A short while later, he sees a hooded figure walking down the road from Suzhou. The figure has some sort of huge sword on in a back sheathe, some sort of foreign weapon judging from the width of the blade and the hilt. He prepares to let them pass and then catch up to them but before he can act, he hears the sound of armoured men marching down the road towards them. They're probably more Ionian guardsmen, meaning that he'll need to stay hidden. His cloak might hide him from town guards who likely haven't seen action in years but the Placidium's professional soldiers would likely see right through it. This notion is dispelled moments later when they round a bend in the road revealing themselves to be Noxian soldiers likely either remnants from the invasion force or a scouting party from Noxian controlled Ionia. More importantly, they're marching towards Yagawa.

They're arranged in double file further divided into the three squads of a Noxian platoon. From his position, Yasuo can hear the commanding officer, dressed in some sort of foppish long coat rather than the heavy armor of the Noxian legionnaires following him, shouting orders to his men, "Kill the elder, sack the town and then we'll get picked up and sailed back to our side of the border, show him that he can't hire someone to kill noxian officers and get away with it. First squad hits the gate in front of us, second squad reserve, third squad climb the walls and open the gates if the first squad can't force their way through with the ram. Marcus had first squad, Nel has second squad, I have third squad." He finishes his giving orders by flourishing his ornate dueling rapier, a sharp contrast to the usual broadswords, long axes, and shields that Yasuo is all too familiar with.

Two things run through Yasuo's mind, these aren't bandits, these are noxian regulars equipped with folded ladders and a makeshift battering ram. That definitely raises questions since both sides generally keep to their own sides of the border but in Yasuo's mind it pales in comparison to the second fact; Noxian soldiers were about to sack Yagawa. Despite his body urging him onwards to strike in the defense of his home, he holds himself back, his mind running through possible strategies as fast as it can. He decides that his best chance is to wait for them to reach the walls and start trying to break through and then attack from behind. He'd prefer to be able to alert the guard but his location doesn't let him do so without losing the element of surprise, hopefully someone else will spot them. And if not, then his fight will alert them.

He may not win, but hopefully he can make enough of a difference that the guards can hold the wall. Better to die a hero than a statistic in some bounty hunter's record. "Well Yone," the Unforgiven murmurs to himself, "I may be seeing you a bit sooner than I expected. I hope you can forgive me." the image of Yone's body dissolving into darkness enters his mind but he shoves it away angrily.

With his mind set, Yasuo makes ready to draw his sword but waits in the bushes as the Noxians pass. He see's them reach the wanderer Yasuo had planned on investigating and stop, the soldiers in front moving to surround the cloaked stranger who seems to flinch for a moment before standing up straight and adopting the stance of a swordsman. The captain halts to start talking but is interrupted by the traveler, "Stand down," the cloaked figure almost orders, in a harsh, female voice.

"Move aside worm, we have better things to do than deal with you," the captain commands before reconsidering, "Kill her," he instructs the two soldiers in front. They both draw their broadswords without hesitation and rush at the traveler.

In a motion almost too fast for Yasuo to notice, the stranger draws a weapon from the sheath slung over her shoulder and parries one strike while dodging under the second with a quick step forward. In the process, her cloak slips back slightly exposing noxian features and stark white hair. Her weapon, rather than the greatsword suggested by the sheath has a short blade of black stone engraved with glowing runes with the top and back jagged, as if it was shattered at some point. She follows up the parry by shoving forward with her sword, sending the first soldier stumbling backwards before sweeping her leg around to knock down her other attacker while he was recovering from the missed swing.

"Sir!" one of the other noxians, this one a giant of a man armed with a halberd and appearing older than the rest of the company and bearing the crest of a veteran sergeant, "that's not some ronin, that's captain Riven. She was supposed to be dead after the invasion." A shudder seems to pass through the noxian ranks at the name. Yasuo is confused, Noxians almost never show fear and he had never heard of the name before.

Still, the noxian captain seems to push his fears down, "So you didn't die in the Cruor river valley, I guess that makes you a traitor."

The warrior in question remains stoic, "I'm loyal to Noxus, this isn't Noxus."

"End of the line traitor, kill her!" the captain shouts to his men which seems to steady them somewhat.

Riven holds her blade at the ready, staring gravely at the charging platoon before warning them, "last chance to run."

The noxians charge forward, some holding back initially but joining in as they see their comrades attack. Riven has a resigned expression on her face as she seems to have wanted them to just leave.

Yasuo breaks free from the shock of these events and decides that this is his best chance to attack. He marshals the wind behind him and leaps over the bushes, he hits the ground and starts rushing at the noxians without breaking stride. Right as he reaches the enemies in back, he drops low to the ground and slides past a confused soldier before whipping his nodachi around in a circle with enough force to bisect his primary target at the waist and injure the others nearby him who turn in surprise to engage the new enemy. He loses track of Riven in the melee but the last he saw of her, she had been cutting down soldiers with a surprising amount of force given her somewhat unorthodox weapon. Something having to do with the wind technique?

He lets the distracting thoughts slip from his mind as he raises his sword to parry an overhead cut from an axe. The handle may be made of tough noxian oak and reinforced with thin strips of metal but the honed steel of the nodachi manages to cut clean through it and the axe head is severed, flying past the ronin to embed itself in the dirt. With the brief respite that buys him, he flicks his sword forward with a shout of "Aseryo", releasing a small tornado that devours the shocked Noxian the the men behind him before spitting them out, injured or dead. The shout can serve to intimidate enemies but also to help him focus. An apprentice he had helped to teach during his self imposed exile had said that they made him look stupid but to each his or her own.

Another noxian tries to cut him with a swing from his broadsword but with a rush of wind, the wanderer leaps into the air, over his shocked opponent before propelling himself into a forward dive during which he slices through the soldier's torso faster than than he can bring around his shield to block. As his foe collapses, he catches a glimpse of Riven slicing through presumably her former allies. A downward swing from an axe tries to hit her but is stopped by a shield of floating metal fragments and green energy. The parts match her blade, maybe more fragments of what it used to be? A wind technique? His suspicions are confirmed when she counters with a diagonal slice from her blade, releasing a shockwave that blasts apart her attacker.

"Noxian soldier, in Ionia, wind technique… looks like maybe I can't die here after all," the Unforgiven thinks to himself. With a new burst of determination, he surveys the battlefield, seeing that most of the Noxians are down, the survivors in two groups, one between the leader and Riven who are rapidly being cut down and the other trying to regroup around the veteran sergeant who had recognized Riven. Though he's tempted to go after the captain for attacking his home, he decides that he should attack the other group before they can regroup and put up more of a fight.

He rushes the second group, riding a wave of wind that slowly builds up as he approaches them. The noxians prepare to meet his charge but right before he reaches them he slams his heel into the ground briefly, stopping his momentum, and lets the wind sweep ahead of him, staggering the noxians. Before they can recover, he slashes through the whole line of soldiers at chest height, killing all of them but the sergeant whose halberd had put him a bit farther back than the rest. Without stopping, the ronin brings his blade around for a powerful downwards cut.

The sergeant, Marcus he remembers from when the captain was giving orders, recovers quickly and catches Yasuo's strike on the haft of his halberd, the iron denting but not giving way, before stepping in close and shoulder bashing Yasuo. He's fast for his size and Yasuo is taking off guard by that sort of move being used by a polearm wielder. The massive shoulder pad slams into Yasuo's torso and the ronin feels the breath be knocked out of him as he hits the ground along with probably a rib or two breaking. Marcus then steps back and brings his halberd around for an overhead strike aiming to cave in Yasuo's skull.

He tries to force himself to get up or roll to the side but his body ignores him. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Riven sprinting towards them with the rest of the noxians lying dead, dying, or unconscious.

He supposes that this whole situation is kind of ironic given their past and a bit odd that she'd do this for an Ionian but it doesn't help him here. His mind calculates their speeds and she's going to be a few feet short of being able to attack Marcus or parry the blow before it lands. Still, the town's going to be safe and depending on how far the news spreads he might even be forgiven posthumously. Kuraha's murderer would get away but there's not much he can do about that now. If nothing else she seems to be a better person now than she was. In the split second it takes him to think this, lying dazed on the ground, the halberd begins to fall. Riven dives forward to try and catch the blow on her sword but is too far away and Yasuo closes his eyes, accepting his fate.

However, instead of the wet thud of the impact, he hears the clang of steel on steel and Yasuo opens his eyes to see a huge black blade alight with green runes stopping the halberd's descent. His eyes trace down the edge of the sword to see Riven kneeling on the ground sweating with her old blade replaced with a massive black greatsword stretched out over Yasuo's face, at least a foot across at it's thickest and almost as long as she is tall. Her eyes have hardened compared to how they were earlier but at the same time seem unfocused, like she isn't fully present in this time.

"I will not allow any more ionian blood to stain my hands, Marcus," her commanding tone along with invoking his name is enough to make the veteran back off a few paces almost involuntarily. Yasuo takes the opportunity to crawl away a meter or two and try to catch his breath, something telling him that Riven wouldn't want him to interfere.

"Sorry Riv, we have our orders and you know it," Marcus says sadly, "how'd you survive the Ionian ambush in the Cruor river valley?"

"We were ambushed and they were winning but I had managed to regroup what was left of the company and had called for backup," Riven retells with a sad edge to her voice that quickly turns to anger, "want to know what they did? They hit the whole valley with zaunite melters. Our soldiers and the Ionians burned alike. I only survived because Hal saw the melter coming right before they hit and shoved me into the river." She unravels a cloth wrapping on her left arm to reveal scars from some sort of hideous burn as if the skin itself had melted.

Marcus seems shocked, "But we sent another company to rescue your unit, they just got their too late. I snuck out of the infirmary to join the relief group myself but someone noticed the blood leaking out from under my breastplate and they sent me back."

"You always were a stubborn bastard, Marcus," Riven murmurs with a thin smile but it vanishes as they seem to remember the situation.

"Whoever called in the strike; if he's not dead now then he will be when I find him. There's no way his career survived that kind of mistake."

"Marcus; you know as well as I do that Jericho Swain doesn't make mistakes," if it were possible, Marcus' face becomes more shocked than it was earlier.

"Just back off, please," Marcus begs, "I've buried you and fury company once already, I don't want to have to do it a second time."

"I can't let Noxus kill more innocents by my inaction, just go back and tell your commander that you lost, sergeant," Riven replies just as torn.

"You were in the army, captain, you know how it works, return with your shield or upon it," Marcus answers gravely.

Their eyes meet over the field of bodies and a look of mutual understanding seems to flash between them.

Yasuo considers interrupting but some things have to be done, he knows that better than anyone.

"One more duel?" Riven asks, her voice suddenly sounding tired.

Marcus answers by clenching his right gauntlet into a fist and slamming it against his chestplate in a noxian salute, "It's been an honor to serve with you, Captain."

Riven seems reluctant for a moment but answers the gesture with her own salute. They each take a few paces away from each other. The soldier draws back his halberd while the Exile grips her greatsword with both hands while holding it behind her and close to the ground. Simultaneously they both rush towards each other, Marcus putting all his weight into a diagonal slash while Riven leaps into the air propelled by a blast of the wind, swinging her sword over her head.

They can both see the blows coming but neither aborts their own attack to evade, as if trying to end this fight while they still can stand striking a killing blow.

Though Riven's jump throws Marcus' aim off by a bit, it still hurtles towards her hip. Right before it makes contact, a shield of green flickers into existence but unlike the solid wall it was earlier, now it seems to waver and the polearm crashes through it, barely slowing down, before embedding itself in the ex-noxian's side, just above her hip. It goes straight through her cloak and light armor and sinks in a few inches. Yasuo can hear the impact from where he stands but Riven's grim face doesn't waver and a burst of wind steadies her in the air.

A split second later, the greatsword slams into Marcus who barely manages to lean his head far enough to the side to take the blow to the shoulder. The Exile's blade catches him between his left shoulder and neck, cutting through the thick metal shoulderguards and breastplate like they aren't even there. Marcus crumples to the ground with a barely audible groan, somehow still conscious with blood bubbling up from his wound. Riven lands in front of him, stumbling from her injury and barely catching herself. She still holds her blade out in front of her and stares at it blankly. A small crack suddenly forms at the tip of the blade which then rapidly spreads until most of the blade shatters like glass and falls to the ground like rain.

She wrenches the halberd from her side with a wince before limping the last few steps towards Marcus who is lying on the ground, trying to push himself up. Sensing her approach, he looks up and tries to chuckle but it comes out as more of a ragged cough, spraying more blood from his mouth. "I never could beat you, Captain," he murmurs. Riven seems to be trying to hold back tears and Marcus continues, "Riv, if you run into whoever killed those higher ups, either kill him or run. We've all seen melter victims but this was worse. I can't explain it but something is deeply wrong with whoever killed them."

Riven nods before managing to choke out, "I'm sorry."

Marcus weakly nods back with a faint smile on his face, "It's been an honor." His eyes close and all that is left is silence before whatever well of adrenaline and sheer determination that has been keeping Riven on her feet runs dry and she crumples to the ground with blood still oozing from her side.

 **Author's Note: And now for everyone's three favorite words, to be continued…**

 **To Moe, guest reviewer who said that Yasuo's sword is a katana and not a nodachi, I'm pretty sure it's a nodachi. If you look at Yasuo's in game model his sword is closer to a nodachi in length. Also, while the nodachi was used as more of a ceremonial weapon because of being impractical to fight with, the other champion who uses a wind technique in league, Riven, also uses an insanely oversized weapon so chances are that the wind technique could help with that.**

 **Also, big shoutout to IvanK. He's the reason why this story has been getting typed up and published instead of being abandoned in my binder or recycled. So, if you have time maybe go check out his own Yasuo story, Sandstorm or flame him for indirectly unleashing this abomination on the site. Best of luck everyone!**


End file.
